Feelings and trust
by Avihenda a
Summary: It's after the final fight and Vol has won. What is Draco up to? MM,AU,Slash
1. Chapter 1

Feelings and Trust

It had started just two months before the final battle. Harry had woken up in the middle of the night, in his bed at Hogwarts. He had looked around, trying to identify what had woken him up.  
Then at the foot of the bed he had seen him, Draco.

Automatically he had gone for his wand, but Draco had moved with surprising speed and caught his wrist before he had moved very far.  
"What are you doing here?" Harry had snapped while trying to get away from the other boy. His pulling however, only made it easier for Draco to get a good hold on him. Draco had smiled, now he was sitting straddling "the boy who lived" while holding his arms over his head. As an answer to Harry's question, he bent down and stole a kiss of Harry's lips. There had been chock in his eyes when Draco again looked at him. Liking Harry's taste, the blond bent down for seconds. The Brown haired boy had not moved to stop him in any way. He had actually not done anything, lying tense on his bed.

"The boy who lived" let him do what ever he felt like, without moving. That is, until he nibbled the boys ear.

As if he had just woken, Harry started to move. He tried pulling his arms back down, but Draco would not let him. He moved his hips slightly to try to get the blond of him, but that was very counter productive.

When nothing seemed to budge the boy straddling him, Harry hesitated a second. Then as if coming to a decision, he bent up a bit and started nibbling on the others collarbone playfully. Collarbone became nipple and soon there was no reason to hold the brown haired boy down.

That night they had become lovers, despite the fact that they would be fighting on opposite sides in the war. Draco already had the mark on his arm to prove it. Every night after that, Draco had come to Harry's bed and every night they fought over who would dominate who. Harry always lost in the end. But he didn't mind, he wanted to be dominated, needed it even. But his pride would not give in without a fight. With all the responsibility and stress that just kept growing each day, Harry would probably have broken down, except for these nightly adventures where he could just let go.

How the blond got into his bedroom each night, was a mystery that he never solved.

Harry missed him. He had suddenly stopped coming a week before the final battle.

They had never talked at these nightly sessions and during the day they acted as if nothing.  
Harry shuddered in his shackles. He was freezing and he had numerous cuts and bruises covering his body. He was all alone in his cell, only light coming from under the heavy door.

He had fought hard and well in the final battle. His magics had crackled in the air around him as Death Eaters fell by his hand. It had not taken long until he was covered in the blood of others. He had searched the battleground for Draco, but instead he had found Voldemort.

He had attacked the foul man with his most powerful spells, but in his eagerness to get rid of the Dark Lord, he had not had the chance to put up a new shield spell.

Voldemort had deflected his spells right back at him. They had hit him with a brutal force, tearing the spell protecting clothing right of his upper body. The clothing dissolving in the air around him as he slumped to the ground unconscious.

He had woken up weeks later, to a world ruled by Voldemort. He had probably survived the bounced spells due to the enchanted clothing he'd had on. He had been wearing layers of them, just in case.

Harry had no idea why he was still alive. Not that he cared anymore. He just felt tired, both physically and mentally.

Someone came in every now and again to beat or torture him. Sometimes Voldemort would be there, but lately not as much.

The door to his cell was opening, with light pouring in on him. He did not bother to look up until someone knelt down beside him and Harry caught the sent of the person. Instantly his head came up, eyes growing a small bit clearer as they locked with gray ones. There he was, Draco, looking at him with a small hint of worry in his normally cold eyes. Did he really look that bad? Harry wondered.

"Hello lover boy" Draco said tryingly. They had never talked in bed so they had never used pet names for each other. Saying it out loud like that made Harry feel like their connection was more solid then before. A blush crept up his face. Solid yes, but in what way?

This Draco that was sitting before him, was it his nighttime lover or his daytime rival? The emotional worry that swept true him made him even more tired.

A hand came up and swept his bangs out of his eyes, then followed to his chin. Draco had moved in closer and now placed his lips to Harry's, then tried to pull back. But Harry wouldn't let him, deepening the kiss as if it was his last.

After a while someone els at the door cleared his throat and Draco pulled back again. Harry's eyes looked up to see that the blond had not come alone. Voldemort stood in the door way with two other wizards. Could this be a new way to torture him? Would Draco now hurt him instead of someone unknown?

The pale boy at his side gave him a reassuring kiss on the cheek and with a smile he asked "Would you like to come home?" Harry's face lit up with a small, tired, but genuine smile. He opened his mouth to say yes, but after weeks of only screaming, nothing came out. After the third failed attempt to produce sound, a desperate nod was made instead.

Looking up at the assembled men in the doorway the blond addressed them " Is that enough proof that we are lovers or would you gentlemen like to see more?" The Dark Lord stepped closer looking once at the beaten boy in shackles, before magically releasing the boy from the cold metal. "No, that is quite enough. I can only wonder when you found the time to seduce the poor boy." Then in a more formal voice he asked "Draco Malfoy, under the agreement that all lovers, wives and husbands to Death Eaters, will be released to them, with the understanding that they be instructed and follow the laws that now preside. Will you swear that Harry Potter is your lover and that you will take responsibility of him?"

Draco had swept his outer robe around Harry and was now holding him tightly in his arms. "I solemnly swear that he is and that I understand the responsibility and will abide by the agreement."

With a nod from Voldemort, Draco left with his bundle of a now sleeping wizard, tightly held against him.  
A small triumphant smile could be seen on his lips.

----  



	2. Bath room

Chapter 2

The water in the tub was becoming murky brown again with dirt. Draco sighed, he would have to change the water again. He put down the wash cloth that he was holding, on the edge of the white tub he was currently standing beside.

He reached over and pulled out the plug to let the still warm, water out. As Draco waited for the water to drain, he looked round the bathroom.

The bathroom was not very big, but clean and what Draco guessed to be "a cozy feeling" to it. It was decorated in white and deep blue colours, with hints of gold decorations.

He had only been in here once before, when he inspected the house before moving in. He usually had no businesses in the servants quarters. Not usually, but this was an exception. His eyes shot back to the reason why he, Draco Malfoy, was in the servants bathroom, scrubbing and bathing someone elses body.

Harry Potter, lying in the bathtub, was the one and only reason for this. Harry had not stirred from his deep sleep since Draco had carried him out of the prison cell two hours ago.

He had been so cold that Draco was convinced he had at least pneumonia. The dark haired boy had spent months down in those dreary underground prison cells, much longer then any of the other prisoners.

The rest of the prison had slowly been depopulated one cell at a time, as prisoners either died under torture, collected by loved ones or given as slaves to Death Eathers. Draco should know, he'd gotten five of them.

The same rules applied to all the prisoners except "the boy who lived". He was not to be killed or given as a slave and how ever much Draco had tried, he was not granted his lover back, until The Dark Lord had summoned him this morning.

The water in the tub was now gone and Harry could now be fully seen, slumped against the tubs side. His skin was filled with cuts and bruises. The once tanned skin that use to play over hard muscle, was now ghostly white with bones just under it. Harry's arms had at some point been broken and had healed by them self. Their slightly strange angle told Draco they would have to be re broken and re healed.

Anger was all Draco could feel when he looked at his lover. Anger at The Dark Lord for doing this, but mostly anger at himself for failing to get Harry out of that dark cell faster.

When the blond had finally gotten home with his sleeping bundle in his arms, he had decided that to clean Harry up before sending for at doctor. He could not stand the thought of this dark haired wizard, being examined, even by a doctor, in such a sad state.

He alone would clean and tend him. It was the least he could do.  
Unfortunately, the only tub in the house, that Harry could sit in himself without Draco supporting him the hole time, was the servants bath tub.

Deciding that the sleeping boy could get no cleaner, Draco lifted Harry out of the tub and dried him of.

Harry's breathing was irregular and slow. Brushing some of the dark locks out of the sleeping face, the blond Death Eather sighed. He was worried, very worried. The warm water had helped get Harry's body warmer, but he was still to cold and the skin to clammy.

Dressing "the boy who lived" in one of his own silk pyjamas. Draco called a house elf to him and told it to send for his personal doctor.

It was time to find out just how much damage that had been done. 


End file.
